


Wish It Were

by Merfilly



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe, Other, Undercover, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-01
Updated: 2006-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at a case, in a world where Wintergreen wants but never had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish It Were

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fic on Demand (Livejournal); Original request copied in notes below.

Wintergreen huffed with displeasure and impatience as he tried hard to ignore the cold and rain. Sometimes he wondered why he kept after Slade. The man had tried repeatedly to put him off, make him go his own way. Yet, even when Slade did the leaving, he always came back. After each tragedy had struck their lives, Slade had found his way back to Wintergreen, who had stitched wounds, listened to the silence, to the confessions, to the pain of the driven warrior. Slade grew no older as the years passed, but Wintergreen knew he was getting too old for this life. But he would not stop, no matter how he wondered, because Slade needed him.

The figure looming up out of the dark behind him did startle him, and he let out a few choice remarks. He knew the bastard was smiling under the mask; the man loved his little cat and mouse games. When Slade guided him to the car, and took the passenger seat, Wintergreen figured the contract was complete, and the nights of surveillance for his friend were at an end for now.

“I need your help. Undercover,” Slade informed him.

“What this time, chum? Pretend to be someone’s uncle?” His various parts in Slade’s espionage tricks had amused Wintergreen. “Tax collector?”

“Sugar daddy,” Slade told him, completely neutral as he did so. “Mine.” Wintergreen had to look from the road to him, to see that profile staring straight ahead, to realize he meant it. “The man I am after patronizes certain clubs, where older men often flaunt their choices. I believe we can make me appear young enough to pass for one you kept over the years.”

“Oh won’t this be a hoot?” Wintergreen bemoaned.

`~`~`~`~`

Slade wound up using a glass eye, and dying his hair auburn with a temporary rinse. Wintergreen had stepped out while he did the cosmetic side of things, and returned with a selection of clothing for his friend to wear. The mercenary raised an eyebrow at them, but proceeded to dress. If the contract had not been such a good deal, he probably would have refused the soft, garish clothing that barely covered his body armor. When Wintergreen came out, looking every inch the British dandy gentleman, Slade’s eyebrow climbed one more notch, but did not say a word. They had already worked it out that they would arrive together, put on the right amount of ‘show’, then have a ‘tiff’ to let Slade wander as needed to get closer to the target.

Arriving at the club, Slade became the consummate actor he could be, whereas Wintergreen just fell back into old mindsets he had long since put away. Meeting Slade Wilson had changed his life in numerous ways, not the least of which was finally having found the absolutely unobtainable desire. All other men paled, and Wintergreen had ceased to care about searching. His focus on womanizing was more than sufficient to keep up appearances.

When they both saw the target separate from his boy toy, Wintergreen knew it was time for the tiff, and doubted Slade knew the proper procedure. He leaned over to claim a kiss, his lips pressing to Slade’s with just a hint of a smile. Amazingly, the mercenary returned it, for just the briefest of instants, before averting his face with a sniff that implied ‘I’m not that easy’. In a wounded voice, Wintergreen began, loud enough to be overheard by nearby tables.

“This is how you repay my kindness, the way I’ve kept you out of the muck all these years?!” His indignation seemed so genuine to himself that he had to watch Slade’s good eye close. There, he saw the faintest crease of amusement at the corner of it, showing Slade had fully appreciated his effort.

“You just don’t meet my needs, anymore!” The mercenary had managed to lighten his voice, taking on more whispery cadences to further fall into the role, and Wintergreen found the change drastically appalling.

“Fine! Go to him, then! You will regret it, my boy, and come crawling back! And do you think I will take you in?!”

“Don’t be that way, old man, just because he’s younger,” Slade countered. “I know where my meal ticket is these days!” With that he sulked off, going in the direction the target had. Wintergreen had to keep the smile out of his face, at the usually manly mercenary controlling his stride to be just slightly effeminate.

The older Brit was taking a drink, seemingly consoling himself even as he watched for potential problems. When a man his own age joined him, he had his hand on his holdout before recognizing another former SAS member, one he had once called ‘chum’.

“My lord, is that you, Mitchell?” Wintergreen asked, smiling politely. He could still play the social cards of his perceived station, because Mitchell returned the smile.

“Wintergreen, it’s been a long time.” The other man shook his head. “Rice paddies and mud far behind us now?”

“Quite.” The pair started musing over the ‘good old days’, which helped Wintergreen keep his cover as there was a small commotion the direction Slade had gone. He had seen Slade slip free before the commotion, so was unfazed as the club’s owner tried to handle the matter discreetly. He was flowing with the conversation well, as Mitchell started the reminiscing over the ‘boys’ they had ogled back then.

“Say, what happened to that blonde you were so fond of?” Mitchell asked, and Wintergreen had to clamp down on his suspicion. Few had ever matched Slade as being the same man as that raw recruit from those long-gone days.

“He didn’t play for our team,” Wintergreen laughed.

“Had to be a shame for you; you were pretty caught up on him there for a bit,” Mitchell said with his own chuckle. “Did you get anywhere with him?”

Wintergreen gave a small sigh, one that held honest regret and memories. “Not a farthing’s worth. I picked up on the signs fast enough.”

“Pity that; he was a fine specimen.”

All the long nights, the missions, the grief and joy flashed through Wintergreen’s mind as he remembered the young man then, and the mercenary now. At least, even under pretense, he had stolen a kiss.

“Still is, I hear,” the grizzled veteran said softly. “Well, it’s been pleasant, Mitchell, but I have business elsewhere tonight.” He rose and tipped his head to the other man, exchanging pleasantries before turning to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> From ms_kinnikufan:
> 
> _Fandom: DC Comics: Deathstroke the Terminator  
>  Pairings/Characters: Slade/Wintergreen  
> Rating: Any, but r-rated and up would very appreciated.  
> Timeframe: Obviously before Jericho-possessed Slade murders  
> Situation: I've got a few : Slade and Wintergreen are undercover and must pretend to be lovers. At one point they kiss each other to complete the ruse and realized they both kind of liked it.  
> Or maybe an exploration of Wintergreen's confusion over his unrequited feelings for Slade (Wintergreen was married several times in the comic and had many flings.  
> Or maybe a nice A.U. in where Jericho is successfully exorcized from Slade before he can murder Wintergreen and they realized the have non-brotherly affection for each other.  
> Or maybe something done way in the past: they're on the battlefield, all their comrade are dead and they are far, far away from social mores, they turn to each other for comfort.  
> Length: Any length is fine with me. _


End file.
